


Coffee Breaks

by KKGlinka



Category: Batman (Comics), Catwoman - All Media Types
Genre: Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-15
Updated: 2005-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KKGlinka/pseuds/KKGlinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of loosely connected vignettes about Catwoman. And coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce proposes Selina get a job.

"I'm not getting a day job. I enjoy life the way it is. I wake up in the afternoon, have breakfast, see the sights, catch up on the news, go out for the night and come home to see dawn. Taking into account mortal danger, I have plenty of excitement, already." Selina blew at the coffee in her mug, watching Bruce play 'normal people' in her living room. 

He pointed at the newspaper classifieds, while sitting in a sofa chair. "You could run a pet shop." 

"I have five cats. I don't need a pet shop." Just then, one of said cats, Bubbles, chased an imaginary object through her kitchen. Skewing his ears back and forth, he spun in a circle, then tore off into the living room. 

Bruce blinked at the cat, nonplussed. "How about an airline stewardess?" 

"How could serving pretzels and tiny plastic cups of soda be interesting?" 

"Well, you might crash and get amnesia." 

She leaned against the kitchenette side wall, still outside the living room. "And then have wacky adventures and claim it wasn't my fault, later?" 

"Precisely." 

"Next you'll suggest I should marry into the mob and be done with it." 

"Would that be so bad? I hear they throw great parties." He toasted her with his own mug, decorated with painted daisies, but the effect was ruined by the bull-whip laying on the center table. 

"Complete with dead bodies and horse heads. I'd probably go insane and turn into a kook." She glanced at him, daring him silently to make a comment about being a costumed weirdo. He seemed to know better. 

"Well, you could always go back to New York and resume office." 

"Pardon?" 

"You ran for mayor, remember?" 

She stared, trying to decide if he was being man-stupid or Batman-silly. "Of course I remember. I also know that I'm legally dead and a convicted felon, in that order." 

"No, you're not." 

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, requesting he continue. 

"The city revoked the death certificate, once they realized you'd faked it, but were too embarrassed to make it public." He kept a perfectly straight face, ernest, even. 

"That still leaves felony." 

"No. A poorly identified Jane Doe was charged and convicted, not you." His voice took on his teacher-tone. "Second, once I heard about the fear toxin I asked the forensics lab to screen one of their on file blood samples. The results indicated you couldn't have been aware of your own actions, or acting under self-direction, according to established precedent. Therefore, you had not actually been made aware of the charges brought against you, or your rights." 

"Geek," she muttered under her breath. 

His head snapped up at her. "What?" 

She blew him a raspberry-cum-kiss, ignoring his offense. "You mean they didn't realize that when I kept saying, 'I don't know' to every other question?" 

He leaned back, folding the newspaper neatly in his lap. "You didn't have an alibi." 

"Well, it's not like anyone was going to take my side. Besides, I couldn't remember the alibi." She spread both hands out in the air beside her head. "Great big gaps in my memory and all that." 

"Which is why I tracked down the head security guard over-seeing the convention. Would you believe he still had the statuette in his apartment?" When she didn't reply, he added, "He was using it as an umbrella stand." 

"Mm." 

"What, 'mm'?" 

"You didn't check any of that the first time around." 

His face went flat. 

"But then you went and did it all later. Your greatest secret; you're a complete softy." Most men just bought flowers and chocolate. She padded into the living room, to plop down in the couch. "So I guess that explains why there was no heat on me." 

He grunted. "The conviction was over-turned on grounds of mistrial. The guard was booked, tried and convicted, very quietly." 

"I'll bet the P.D. loved that." 

"Actually, relieved." 

"Really?" 

"You caused a prison riot, remember?" 

"I didn't do it on purpose. The voices in my head said so," she added with artificial humor. 

"And Quinzel." 

It was her turn to grunt. "Bitch." She smiled. "You still missed something." 

"Oh?" 

"I was never sworn into office, but nice try. You had me going there for a moment." 

"We could go somewhere else." 

"You could go to work, since you're already late." 

Bruce grunted again. "I'm going to tell all my friends that you're too practical to be a decent super villain." 

"Please don't do that. I might have to take over the world to prove you wrong." 

"You could just be mayor." 

"No."


	2. Swingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina receives early morning visitors.

"You said, 'visit Bruce', not stand around on rooftops at four in the morning." Lois tucked her hands in her armpits. "What could he possibly be doing at this hour? And, no, I don't want your jacket." 

Clark, in disguise as the Reporter, pursed his lips at her. "He was in the city." 

"Was he waiting for Dunkin' Donuts to open?" 

"No. I don't think he eats donuts." 

"Was he at Denny's?" 

"No." Clark scowled briefly. 

"Why was he still in the city? I know he's not working because you're wearing regular clothes, which means he's still here for some other reason. You may as well tell me because I _will_ find out." 

Clark gave her droopy eyes of long suffering tolerance just as a swish and thump signaled the arrival of Batman. 

Lois spun around to declare, "Tarzan has arrived. And why couldn't we pick him up? Why did we have to wait for him to swing by?" 

"I was busy." He loomed but Lois wasn't scared. She was married to Superman and it didn't get much scarier than that. 

She looked over the ledge at the abandoned streets below. The only things moving were the street lights, blinking a steady yellow. "So what were you doing? Making omelettes?" 

"No, coffee," interjected a second and decidedly female voice. 

Lois blinked and turned her head. Catwoman was perched on the ledge beside her, also studying the streets below. Lois took a deep breath and pinched her nose. She pitched back at Clark, "You could have told me. I would have understood." 

"Men are like that," agreed Catwoman. 

"I know. Always trying to protect you from everything." Lois eyed the other woman surreptitiously. 

Was it her imagination or did Catwoman get scarier year by year? She'd advanced to leather, metal hardware and cleated boots from the relatively innocuous purple spandex. And no tail. Tails made things very unscary in ways bull-whips did not. Lois tried to see if there were any handcuffs dangling in sight but was frozen by humor-filled eyes protected by gaudy yellow goggles. 

Catwoman leaned closer, straight into her personal space. "It's okay to ask, you know." 

Lois tried to edge away. She met all sorts due to her relationship with Superman, including every variety of vampy super-villainess that existed. They usually tried to kill her and they didn't usually have quite so many distinct muscles. Catwoman was breathing on her neck. 

"Selina," growled Batman, "stop that." 

"Aww, c'mon. It's _Lois_. It's my job to terrorize her." 

Lois craned around in time to see Batman mouth a silent "no" of warning, Catwoman flash a thousand-watt smile, and to feel a firm shove. She toppled over the ledge, into thin air, with a squeak. Oh, great. 

Clark caught her, of course, returning to the rooftop before anyone saw a mild-mannered reporter hovering twenty stories above ground. Straightening her clothes, brushing back her hair, Lois smiled in satisfaction. 

Batman had Catwoman by the arm, twisted behind her back, and her scruff, holding her off the ground. It looked like he was trying to shake her, but that might have just been the way Catwoman kept twisting around to try and kick him, laughing like an idiot the entire time. 

"Clark, do you have my purse?" 

"Right here." 

She took the handbag, checking its contents. Good. Lois walked up to Batman and Catwoman ceased struggling temporarily. 

"What?" 

"This bag has a camera in it. A full size, steel frame, well-engineered traditional camera." 

"And?" 

Lois smiled politely, then swung the purse at full speed, cracking Catwoman on the head. "And-" 

"Ow! Fuck!" 

Batman dropped her and backed away to a safe distance. 

Lois kept swinging the purse as Catwoman fell down and staggered in confusion, trying to cover her head. "And, there is a quota." Thump. "On dropping me off buildings." Thump. "Once per year." Thump. "Per villain." 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

"Ow, stop," wailed Catwoman. "That hurts!" 

"I told you to wear a helmet," chimed in Batman, from the peanut gallery. 

"I _am_." Still cradling her skull, Catwoman slunk away from Lois. " _Hurts._ " 

"Yeah. I probably broke my camera." She removed it from the purse and noted a shattered lense as several small metal bits fell loose. "You owe me a new one." 

"Fine." 

"Oh God. She's not going to sulk, is she?" Villains weren't supposed to sulk with pitiful wide-eyed shock like, like.... "Damn. No wonder you can't handle her." 

"I don't sulk." 

"Yes, you do." 

"You sulk worse," Catwoman grouched. 

Batman looked ready to argue when Clark confirmed, "You do sulk worse." 

Batman sulked, creeping back to hide in a shadow. 

"Oh, for pity's sake." Lois sat down on the concrete, next to Catwoman, leaning against the stairwell port. "Want a granola bar?" 

"No. Already had dinner." Selina pulled back her goggles, then yanked off the cowl. She poked gingerly through her hair, looked at her gloved finger tips and scowled at Lois. 

"What? You're supposed to be a tough guy." 

Selina wiped her glove against Lois' beige wool suit. It left a blood stains. 

Lois sighed. "That's not going to come out." 

"So now we're even." 

"Even? Even?! You already pushed me out a window earlier this year. 

"That was his idea," retorted Selina, pointing at the still hiding bat-shape. 

"Oh yeah? Well what about that time you kidnapped me at LexCorp?" 

"You agreed to that. Do you have a tissue?" 

Lois handed her a tissue, which Selina pushed against the invisible gash on her scalp. She was beginning to feel a bit guilty about that. 

Suddenly, Clark was standing in front of them. "You agreed to that?" He sounded upset. 

"You didn't tell him?" 

"Well, I," Lois shrugged, "didn't want to ruin your reputation." 

"Tell him what?" A black cape joined their field of vision. 

There was no help for it now. "You don't mind, do you?" 

"No, go ahead. My reputations in shreds these days anyway." 

"Lex hired her to steal from his own company so he could build something in secret. She didn't want to do it but you know how Lex is when people try to say 'no' to him. So when she saw us on the security camera, she came back, in tripped the alarm and kidnapped me." 

Clark closed his eyes. "So I would come rescue you and screw up the entire heist." 

"Mm hm," confirmed Selina. 

"Did you know that was her plan?" Clark asked Batman. 

"No, but I knew she wouldn't trip a basic infrared alarm by accident." 

"So you _knew_. Well, at least now I know why you didn't bother chasing her after I, um, dropped her." Clark narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms at Lois. "Did you give her permission to do that too?" 

"Well...." 

"What about _my_ permission?" 

Selina made a mou. "You're Superman. You could have stopped me." 

"She has a point," said Lois and Batman at the same time. They stared at each other and Lois could swear he blushed for a second. 

Clark grabbed him by the arm, shuffling him off. Lois watched as the two men hissed in argument, with the occasional hand gesture. She shook her head. 

"They're so sweet together, aren't they?" 

She nearly pulled a muscle jerking to stare at Selina. "What?" 

"Er, was I not supposed to mention that?" 

"Mention what?" 

Selina waved vaguely at the two men, still threatening each other from mere inches apart. "You know...." She paused, cocking her head with a smile. "C'mon, it's _me_. I'm not the judgmental sort." She balled up the tissue. "And sorry if I made you jealous." 

"I'm not.... They're not...." Lois sighed dramatically. "Look, I haven't caught them yet. That's good enough for me." 

"Not the least bit interested? C'mon, I've seen you around Bruce," Selina continued to tease. 

Lois drew back. "Doesn't that bother _you_? How can you stand all those, those, you know." 

"Lois, dear, if there's one thing life has taught me is that sex and fidelity have nothing to do with each other." 

Just for that moment, she saw Catwoman lurking behind Selina's eyes and it was more alien than her entire costume. "How can you say that. Clark and I -" 

"Are special." Selina stood, replacing her cowl and goggles. 

"Where are you going?" 

"Home. The boys have left." 

"What do you mean they.... They left me here with you? You?!" 

"Either they trust me or they went to fetch some condoms." 

Lois clapped her hands over her ears and looked at Catwoman pointedly. 

Catwoman held out her hands placatingly, until Lois dared to listen again. She smiled that shit eating grin again. "Want to come by my place for some coffee?" 

Lois looked to her right, to her left and over her shoulder. Her options were a ledge, a ventilation shaft or another ledge. Forward was not an option. She took a deep breath, screamed and jumped off the roof. She saw Catwoman wave a cheerful good-bye as Superman flew Lois out of Gotham and away from its special brand of crazy people.


	3. Tea Break: Missing Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words can be important.

I do not know if this is the right place. I asked Tim and he told me here at this street and that street, at this building and all the way at the top. I am not sure until I see the cats and they are watching me. They are only animals and cannot speak the human way. They are not a threat. 

I land on the flat area, in front of the doors, called a terrace. Sometimes it is called a patio but I am not sure why. The glass doors are open, which seems careless in this city. Then the cats watching me meow, one by one, then all four together until the old one still inside calls also. I understand how it is not so careless. 

"Little bat, little bat, come out to play." 

I see the Catwoman watching me through a mirror but I have a plan. People are not so different than animals, though I know not to say that out loud. Tim says that I am not polite but the rules of not-speaking are true and always right. That is more important than polite. 

I know that this is her territory, not like how Onyx has territory that is a part of Batman's. Alfred told me that the Catwoman lived here before Batman, so it is the rules that he must let her stay. I have watched him. When he comes here, he is like the boy cat on his belly with his ears pointed forward. He is bigger and stronger but he does not want to scare her. 

I do not say this to anyone because it is a secret thing. 

I also know that this place has many women, I think more women than men, who know she is their leader. This is a dangerous thing, so I know that even though I am more dangerous than the Catwoman, I am not more dangerous here. It is the rules that I must be like a kitten. 

I go inside her home and sit on the floor, crossing my legs and putting my hands flat in my lap. This position makes it more difficult to fight or escape. Once I am there, the four young cats follow me and choose different places to lay down. The two striped gray ones sit away, in the hall. The small black one squints at me to say she is friendly. The black and white one is closer and he plays with my cape. The old white one with the black face and feet closes his eyes, flicks his black tail and pretends to sleep. 

They are all quiet now and this is a surprise. When I grew up alone, after I left Cain, I saw many cats outside. When cats live with people, they are loud because people do not listen. If these cats are not loud than I was not wrong to come here. 

I can hear dishes, small dishes, a drawer with large things in it, a cabinet door, the rustle of fine, dry leaves, a metal pot and a gas burner. 

"You didn't seem like the coffee type." 

"No." The black and white cat falls on his back and puts his his back feet on my thigh. He holds out his front feet with his toes spread and points his ears at me. I tap his nose before he can move and he gapes his teeth wide open, laughing at me. He fights with my cape. 

The Catwoman uses this as a distraction and comes into the room when I play. It is a good trap. She is not sure I know the rules. This is smart. So I take off my mask and smile. 

She sits down on the couch. "That one is named Bubbles." 

"Bubbles?" I do not understand this name. It is like Bruce or Tim. It has no meaning. 

"I think his brain is made of bubbles. He's not too smart but he likes to play." 

I understand that. "He laughs a lot." 

The Catwoman smiles. 

"What is that one?" I point at the small black female. 

"Rocky." 

I wait. 

"She likes to slap the other cats." 

I still do not understand the name but I understand the cat. When they live in families, the boy cats will not hurt the girl cats, even though they are bigger. So the girl cats can be bullies. If they are strangers, it is different. 

"What is the old one?" 

"Otto, the third." 

"You have three Ottos?" 

"No. It's a history joke." 

I do not understand this joke but I have finished the rules. I will ask Tim later and he will explain the history. This next part is difficult because it has no rules. I begin. "I want to know... to hear...." 

I do not want to sound dangerous. I check but the Catwoman sits like the old cat Otto and is patient. "Before now, before we went away, my friend.... The one called Spoiler came here. Not here but-" 

"I found her." 

"Before, there was not time. She went away and there was not time. I could not find her." I hold out my hands because I do not know the words I want. "I need...." My hands become fists as if I could catch the words from the air. 

"I understand." 

I think she says this like adults say it so I make my eyes like knives. Then I see that she knows all the words, that she has heard all those words and spoken all those words. I think she knows more words than Batman and that is why he does not fight her. 

So, I put down my hands on my knees and do not clench my fingers. 

She says, "She wanted to know how she'd failed." 

"Did not fail." 

"I know, but she was confused. She forgot why she started fighting and thought it was for Batman." 

I hold my hands over my chest. "Fight for here." 

"She remembered, I think, before she went but...." I see her start to hide her words. She stops. "I wanted to tell her it was his fault, for being afraid." 

"She would be gone." 

The Catwoman taps a finger softly, slowly against the arm of the couch. I hear the tea kettle whine as she leaves the room. I could leave now but there is tea, which is good, and new words to learn.


	4. Julienne Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Morning Breakfast, with fries.

Dinah Lance flipped through a women's magazine, that someone had altered through the addition of beards, mustaches, arm-pit hair and missing teeth, while she waited on Barbara Gordon. She picked up a pen from a nearby counter and began adding word balloons. 

Barbara sighed dramatically, her face dropped in her hands, away from the computer screen. She mumbled something not terribly nice. 

"Did someone die?" 

"That's not funny." 

"I wasn't joking. You look upset. We haven't lost someone else, have we?" 

"No one's dead." Babs waved at the computer screen. "It's another one." 

"I see," Dinah encouraged. She looked at the digital picture. It seemed to be a giant leaf, an entire canopy, underneath a brightly lit sky. "A jungle?" 

"Potted plant." The image flickered to another scene. 

This one was more difficult. It was dark but rusty bars were visible. The entire area was obscured by bushes or tumbleweeds of some type. Dinah looked at Barbara. 

"Underside of a refrigerator." 

"Ah." She wasn't quite sure what the tragedy was. 

Barbara toggled the screen again and winced. The image jerked around wildly, elements spinning in and out of view, pixelating as the camera struggled to keep pace. Without warning, gigantic teeth appeared from all sides followed by darkness, then more blurred scenery, further obliterated by out of focus drool. 

Dinah gasped and covered her face. "Argh! No! Don't eat me!" 

"It's. Not. Funny." 

"Babs, I hate to break it to you, but your bug just got eaten by a cat." 

"I _know_." 

"Using my vast detective skills," Dinah scrunched up her face, "I deduce you are spying on whatshername! That chick who dresses up like a cat." 

"Lots of people own cats." 

"True. But lots of people didn't see the face you made when Cass told you Bruce has been stopping by you-know-who's apartment. And, I'm not lots of people." 

"She's dangerous." 

"He's a grown man. I'm sure he knows the risks." 

"Oh, yeah, that's why Silver Fox won't talk to him, Vesper's dead, Sasha's part of a covert espionage organization and no one talks about Diana. Because he knows what he's doing." 

"He would be touched to know you cared." 

"No, he wouldn't. He'd tell me to get out of Gotham." 

"That's not fair and you know it. He'd be happy to have you back on his side." 

"Then he can damn well tell me in person. In the meantime, Cass," Barbara spoke into her mic. "Yes. I need you to deliver another one." Pause. "They're out of commission." Pause. "Because she lets you into her apartment." Pause. "Thank you." 

Barbara smiled. "Go with her." 

"You're suspicious of her too?" 

"I have a theory." 

* * *

"Why are we going up the elevator?" Dinah followed Cassandra, both of them out of costume and entering the apartment building like normal people. Granted, it was day instead of night, so perhaps using zip-lines and rooftops was not wise. Still, she had expected Batgirl, version two, to stick to her usual methods. 

"Easier." 

"Isn't it a bit obvious? Just knocking on her door like that?" 

"Obvious, anyway." 

Cassandra waved when the door opened, announcing without fanfare, "Guest." 

Dinah wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't a somewhat tall woman with hair slicked back from a recent shower, wearing rose colored, silk pajamas. "Catwoman?" 

"Canary." Selina raised an eyebrow at Cassandra. 

"Oracle said, 'come'." 

Selina smiled widely. "Gig's up, huh?" 

Cassandra ducked her head, pushing back strands of hair behind an ear. 

"It's no big deal. C'mon. I'm working on breakfast." 

Dinah followed but slowed, wandering a bit in confusion. There was something not quite kosher about this apartment. It was clean, tidy, full of bright white and pastels. The furniture was organized just-so, energetic paintings (only one of which featured a cat) decorated the walls and there were doilies on the tables. It was, quite possibly, more disturbing than Chesire and her feng-shui. 

She looked back at Selina. "Can I call you Martha?" she joked. Humor was the best way she knew how to recover. 

A gravely and not too happy, familiar voiced interrupted, directly from behind, "Why are you talking about my mother?" 

Dinah spun. "The other Martha," she answered hurriedly. 

Bruce Wayne frowned, reminding her of Batman, but only if you dressed him in a teal polo shirt and khakis. 

"What other Martha?" 

"The one with the TV show." He had shaving cream on his neck. 

"Oh." 

Selina wiped the white smear off his neck with a napkin. "I think it was meant to be a compliment." 

Bruce squinted. "She was charged with fraud." 

"That's still a compliment, in my book. You want some breakfast?" 

He glanced at Dinah, while accepting a cup of coffee, then towards a wall clock. "It might be best if I left." 

"Oh, she's just here with Cass." 

"Because?" 

"The usual." Selina sat down and held out a hand, palm up. 

Cassandra had the grace to look sheepish before dropping the security tracking device, courtesy of Barbara "Oracle" Gordon, into the waiting hand. She looked at Dinah, smiled and shrugged. "Julienne fries," she explained. 

Selina examined the bug, turning it in her fingers. "You know," she reached towards Bruce, grabbed his waist-band and dropped the bug down his pants, "I really don't like these." 

Bruce slapped down his mug so fast coffee sloshed across the table-cloth, and did a little dance, jamming his hand down his fly. 

Too late, Dinah winced and yanked the miniature speakerss disguised as earrings, off her ears. She could still hear a tinny shriek. 

Just then, the front door swung open, admitting a posse of children followed by a red-headed woman. "Hey, Selina, I woah-! Sorry to interrupt." The young woman laughed and wove past Bruce, who had frozen in a most regretful pose. 

"You did that on purpose," he hissed. 

"Oh, no, I waited until we could both hear them down the hall before _accidentally_ doing that." Selina dabbed at the coffee spill, making a 'tsk' noise. "Besides, you just stood there so don't try to blame me." 

The swarm, which proved to be merely five children who moved around a lot, didn't seem to notice either the man in the apartment or his identity. 

The red-head waggled her fingers at him. "Hi, B." On cue, the children repeated the greeting, in unison. 

He grunted, fetching out the electronic bug and placing in on the table. "I'm _leaving_." True to his word, he grabbed a piece of toast from a pile of assorted varieties, and stalked out of the apartment. 

Selina picked up the bug and dropped in his abandoned coffee mug. "Hmph. Men. Only good for one thing and that's only if you run out of batteries." 

Dinah gaped. "There are children present," she protested. 

"Don't be silly. We just had coffee." 

The oldest boy, with shaggy brown hair and a skateboard still in hand, rolled his eyes. "She means _sex_." 

"I know. Fucking," agreed one of the girls. 

"Don't like it." 

"Me neither. It's gross." 

"And boring." 

"Hurts," added the another boy in front of the TV, never pausing in his annihilation of computer generated monsters. 

"Yeah." 

They all looked at Selina and chorused, "Ewwwww." 

Dinah swallowed over a sudden lump in her throat, blinking rapidly. She stared at her napkin, picked up her fork, put it back down, turning it over several times. Mentally, she put a voodoo curse on Barbara for sending her into this situation without due preparation. _Just make sure Cass plants the bug, no problem. Easy, my ass._

This wasn't right. This was supposed to be Catwoman who wore tight revealing leather, who sidled up to men and made them stutter with her deep-throated murmurs, who lashed her way through fights, leaving behind a trail of sprayed blood, and offered tacitly to kill Lady Shiva with a car bomb. She was not supposed to be sipping a cup of coffee from a daisy painted mug while shepherding small children, grown men and a former assassin. 

Selina smiled at her, faintly, those bright eyes glinting, then reached for the sugar bowl. She poured straight from it into her mug. "They're from the streets. They come here every Sunday morning and pretend they're not. Try not to ruin it for them," she warned with deadly politesse. 

Dinah opened her mouth to rebuke, to ask why they weren't in group shelters or foster care, but saw Cassandra watching from her peripheral vision. Cassandra stared, without words, never blinking. 

"Yes?" 

"So, uh, you take care of them?" 

"No," Selina chuckled. "I couldn't if I tried. Holly does." 

Dinah glanced at the slight woman with orange hair and the ghosts of needle tracks on her arms. Holly's skin was pale and the bruises under her eyes might never go away, but she sprawled comfortably across the couch. An empty plate rested on her stomach. Good appetites and on-going addiction didn't go together. 

"Old friends?" 

"We were roommates." Selina didn't sound like she would elaborate. 

Roommates was a loaded word and Dinah fought back the urge to ask if Holly was a child, a student, a sister or a lover. She didn't ask. She had been raised among people who fostered apprentices on a regular basis and there were rules about what questions could be asked. 

Selina never gave her a chance. She rose abruptly, "Cass, Dex, c'mon. You're going to help make breakfast." 

An argument broke out over the merits of waffles versus pancakes. Selina silenced them by pronouncing waffles and warning them she wouldn't do twice the work for twice the mess. 

Cass went straight to a particular drawer and pulled out a specialty tool designed to cut potatoes into strips. Dex found a pot in a cabinet, fetched a tub of shortening and scooped it into the pot. Meanwhile, Selina sorted out flour, soda, sugar, milk and eggs. 

Two cats jumped onto the counter, sitting with their tails tucked around their feet. 

Selina looked at them. "No," she said firmly. 

One of the cats blew a sigh at her. 

"It's still 'no'." She looked at Dinah. "They think I'll give them some eggs and milk. Greedy little bastards." She dragged a blender onto her work surface. 

Within fifteen minutes the smells of frying potatoes and steaming waffles filled the apartment. Dinah found herself washing dishes, dodging cats, children and cutlery. 

The not-silence was becoming awkward. "You can cook?" 

"No, I only pretend to cook and it magically turns into food." 

"I didn't say you couldn't. I'm just... surprised." 

"My sensei taught me." 

"The long lost School of Good Eats?" 

"His granddaughter, actually. I think he was a completionist. Believed in well-rounded educations or some shit." 

"Sounds like a good teacher." 

"Nah. He wanted free housekeeping." 

"Oh yeah? Why'd you put up with it?" 

Selina glanced at the unoccupied children. "I like to eat well." She cut off the conversation by turning on the blender. 

In the end, Dinah worked on a plate full of blueberry topped waffle. It would be rude to leave before eating, an implication that she was offended and never wanted to return. That would be no help to Barbara if a return mission was needed. How the hell was she going to explain this, anyway? _So sorry, screwed up the mission, got distracted by waffles and french fries?_

Okay, maybe now would be a good time to raise the subject of surveillance. Dinah opened her mouth. 

"Damnit. Get the rubber bands off the cats!" Selina shoved back her chair and pointed at Dex. "Now!" 

Two cats were jumping around sideways, trying to escape from bands knotted in their fur. Another was miming at the air, twisting her head from side to side, rubbing at her face with her paws. A fourth was grooming his tail, which was tied to his leg. 

"I'm going to kill them." She pointed at the living room. "That's why it's her job." She growled. "Holly, get off the fucking floor and quit laughing!" 

Dinah leaned back in her chair, but there was a knocking at the door followed by, "It's me, doll!" 

"It's open." Selina sat down with a thump. 

A large man, with a crooked nose, and a crooked hat, burst through the door. He had time to take in the scene before his eyes went wide and a mob of children tackled his arms and legs. 

The mob chanted, "Slam! Slam! Slam!" as he toppled, obligingly, onto the floor. Dex grabbed his fedora, mashing it onto his own head, dancing out of reach. The blond girl yanked Slam's ears while the others sat on his legs and held down his arms. 

Slam grinned, nicotine stained teeth and answered, "Uncle, uncle! C'mon y'little monsters, get offa me." He craned his face toward Selina. "Tell 'em to get offa me." 

"You're a big strong man. Do it yourself." 

"But they're small and squishy," he protested. "'Sides, why are they still-" he raised his eyebrows at Dinah, "- why hello there, toots." 

"Dinah, meet Slam. Slam, meet Dinah." 

"Pleased to meet ya, ma'am." 

She had to put down her fork again. "Er, hello." She stared at the lined face and unkempt gray hair. 

His face slipped from humor to some sort of morbid fear. "Aw, hell, he ain't -" 

"He's not here, Slam. Relax. I'm just a bit off schedule today." 

"Well, okay the-" 

Dex waved the fedora in the air. 

"- you sorry little son of a - you put so much as a crimp in that and I'll drop you off this goddamn roof!" Slam launched himself off the floor, scattering the children who shrieked and surrounded him. 

The cats started to run back and forth down the hallway, taking turns chasing each other, except for an elderly Siamese who clambered into the safety of Selina's lap. She peeled a rubber band off his head. 

Holly scrambled over the couch, grabbed a dining room chair and sat down with her back to the mayhem. She folded her hands tidily under her chin. Selina cocked her head. 

Holly raised her brows. "Nope. Not looking. It's not happening if I'm not looking." 

A rubber band hit her on the forehead. "You're going to clean that up." 

Holly rubbed her forehead in mock injury. "Make him clean it up. He started it." 

Dinah didn't try to speak over the racket as a coffee table tipped over onto its side, someone tripped over the game console and fell tangled in the cords, two books landed on a head and cats puffed up, hiding under chairs. 

The whipped cream was very good. "Aren't you going to stop them?" 

"It's not like I own them," Selina retorted. Her words said one thing but her eyes declared, "mine, mine, _mine_." The tips of her teeth showed behind her lips as her smile took on a hard edge. 

Dinah did her best to feel relieved at seeing Catwoman peek through, but all she could do was worry what Barbara would think of julienne fries and another dead camera feed. Maybe she could bring back a waffle.


	5. Drinking Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night at a diner with Slam.

She pulls up on some bike I can't identify, looks hi-tech but not some brand. Hell, I can't help it but down the rest of my bourbon. It's gotta be one of his. It's no damn help that she's grinning like a fool when she drops across from me at the table. Stuff like this makes me feel more ancient than waking up with stiff joints and swollen knuckles. 

"Hey, Slam." 

I grunt, which probably isn't too smart around her, 'cause I figure she's got a degree in Grunt. She's still in costume, just the mask off, but no one bats an eye. They figure she's just some biker chick hittin' on an old guy. 

"What?" Her eyes narrow, and now I notice the bags under them. 

She wasn't sleeping much while hunting down the Romanian but I guess it bothered her more than she let on, because she orders some mixed drink. Funny gal, can't stand the taste of straight liquor. "Just sayin' you'll show up with little bat symbols on you someday." 

Her face closes off like she pulled on the mask. Won't get nothin' out of her now, even if I cuss out her mother and call her twenty different names. Damnit. I've been putting away too much already to spout off like that. "Shit, sorry. Guess I'm just feelin' sorry for myself." 

She folds her hands together, polite as all get out, still keeping that blank face but her eyes slide away for a jiffy. "Yeah, okay." 

Well, it's not gonna make a difference now, is it? I've already stepped in it. "Just figured you knew better than to take things from him. First it's a bit of leeway, then a quarter of the city, some money for your sister, some gadgets to keep safe and now-" 

"Shove it." Her face has gone ugly, real subtle like, small creases around her eyes, her lip raised in a ghost of a snarl. 

I look down at her hands. They're still folded flat but she's popped the claws. Those damn things will cut through near anything. I've seen her rip shit out of people with her hands, parts that belonged where they were. It's easy to forget, with her manners that she grew up in the alleys, learning to ask questions later. I have a hard time swallowing the next bit of bourbon. "Just sayin' it's not much different than jewels and a fur coat." 

The muscles in her arm jerk but she don't hit me. She don't because she's better than her daddy and smarter than most people I meet. She knows I'm right and snatches her drink from the startled waitress instead. Doesn't spill a drop. "It's not... like that. He can't.... The crazies would try to kill me. You know that." 

"Sure. Whatever you say." I do, too. I may not know who he is exactly, but a fella like Batman's got money, which means he's a somebody. When a somebody dates, the paparazzi go nuts and then nobody's got any secrets. Doesn't mean I have to like it. 

Her mask eases away and her hands curl around the glass. "My life story. I take what I can get. Nothing I can do about it." 

"Aw hell, girl, that ain't true. You shut down half the dealers and pimps in the neighborhood." 

"So? I shut them down I wipe out the only chance a lot of women have around here. Some asshole's in jail and the problem, the real problem, is still here." 

She hunching down around her drink and I'm thinking about her daddy again. Shit. I asked her once about her daddy and she laughed and asked, "Which one? The one that knocked me around or the one that didn't want me?" I thought for sure that was a joke, but then I got to thinking about what I thought when I first saw her picture. 

I'd pegged her for sure as being mob, from one of the old families. She got that face, dark eyes and permanent tan like she stepped straight off the boat from Sicily. Didn't make no sense when I found photos of her parents. Sure her ma was hispanic but it just didn't look right. To someone ignorant, someone who don't look past basic coloring, it might pass but I've gotten 'round in my day. That's when I realized it wasn't no joke, not to her. 

The scariest woman in Gotham is a needy, whiny drunk, which makes her that much more terrifying. You just don't expect it, you know? Besides, the last thing the End needs is a drunk Catwoman jumping off a skyscraper or breaking into the MOMA. 

I reach out and push her glass to the side, just a bit, using my fingertips. Ain't gonna try and take it from her, 'cause that would be suicide; just getting her attention. 

Her eyes snap up, sharp and green. "I wasn't going to-" 

I smile a bit on one side. "That's what they all say." 

She got her daddy issues but ain't no way in hell I'm gonna broach that subject with her. Not after I went along with 'em for my own advantage. Bad on my part, but there's nothin' like a woman coiled up like a panther, climbing all over you. Only a fool turns that down without a second thought. Course, I been called ten shades of different fool over my life. 

She sighs, soft, too tired to stay mad. "Tell you what, I'll finish my drink and order something to eat." 

"You'll be stayin' 'til it's safe to get back on that bike, doll." That rocket's probably got enough horsepower to turn her into kibble an' girl lacks the sense to wear a helmet. Stupid that, because that bike make me think about him again. 

There ain't no fool like the one that dresses in a cape. Only thing I can figure is he was too young to realize playin' hard to get would turn her on faster than the diamond district. It started years ago and nothin' I can do about it. It's also why I gotta be careful now. She's tired and not too sober an might take me holdin' back for an invitation, just because I ain't lookin' at her like a piece of meat. 

"You have got to be the only person who cares if I splatter, Slam." 

I just look over at that bike for a moment until she notices and say, "Holly looks up to you." 

She stares at me for a second, then takes the menu from the waitress. 

People say a beautiful woman got power but they don't know jack shit. Men want to have 'em like they want shiny cars and fancy food too retarded to eat. She don't want me, not really. Just wants a safe place she can go to every night with food to eat, an' someone to pet her until she falls asleep. It's another thing that goes on the list of things I can't say for fear of my good health, 'cause life told her she ain't supposed to want that. 

So she takes the gadgets an' territory instead. I guess that's gotta be good enough.


	6. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys leave Lois at Selina's apartment, right after "Swingers".

"I can't believe he left me with you." Lois attempted to straighten her clothing from her hectic journey across Gotham's rooftops back to Selina's apartment. The nerve of those two men, flying off and leaving her with Catwoman on some random high-rise. 

"You didn't think you guys would go straight home after making a trip all the way to meet with Batman, did you?" 

"I was kind of hoping he would take me home, first, yes." 

"I got the impression you tagged along, on purpose." 

"I did, but you weren't part of the game plan." 

"Ah. I get it. You wanted to be left loose in Gotham while the boys went villain hunting." Catwoman made a cocked-gun gesture. "Gotcha." 

Lois held her face. "I can't believe they're using you, of all people, to baby-sit me. 

"The best part was your expression when Superman dumped you back on the roof and zipped off after Batman," Selina taunted mercilessly. She unlatched the sky-light window, hopping down through it. Lois followed cautiously through the sky-light. 

"Yeah, I bet that was hysterical." She found herself in a tastefully furnished, if a bit Spartan, penthouse. "You know what else I can't believe?" 

"Hm?" 

"That Batman told you who Superman really is." 

"Oh, that." Selina's face took on a shade of consternation. "He didn't. You remember that thing where I kidnapped you to break Superman out of Ivy's grip?" 

"How could I forget?" 

"Bruce told me there were three people in the Globe office Superman cared about but I've never seen footage of him rescuing Clark Kent. You obviously care for Clark and with the way Bruce had revealed his identity and we've always been friends ...." 

"Woman's intution?" 

"Something like that. I go to sleep on it and wake up knowing the answer." Selina tapped the side of her head and shrugged. "Besides, they look the same." 

"Mrp?!" A small black cat sat at her feet. 

Catwoman scooped her up, putting the cat on her shoulder and purring filled the room. When Lois held out her fingers, she received a drawn, baleful withdrawal. 

"You smell like dog," she explained. 

"Oh. Right." Lois pocketed her hands, unsure of her welcome. "Next you'll tell me you knew Batman was Bruce." 

"Can't say I was surprised," Catwoman retorted mildly. "He always did keep funny evening hours." 

"And you kept that a secret?" Lois asked dryly, doing her best not to let her patent disbelief show. 

"Don't believe me, huh?" 

"I can't believe you wouldn't have used that information." 

"And I can't believe he never told the cops who I was or where I lived." 

Lois fell silent, because that was the million dollar question. What fueled their long-standing truce? 

The cat batted at Catwoman's goggles, craning in close to sniff at the steel frames. Selina pushed them up, switching to unbuckle her aviator's cap. The purring increased in volume and several other cats crowded the room. 

Lois counted four... no, five. That wasn't too bad, not the freakish menagerie she'd expected. Okay. She could make do, even if she was trapped in an apartment without someone less-than-a-friend, with nothing to do when she was already wide-awake. 

Selina finally turned on the overhead light. "Sorry. I'm used to the dark. Sit down." She pointed at a living room chair and headed towards the kitchen. "Coffee will be up in a bit. I need a shower so pour for yourself," she planted a cup decorated with planets and stars in front of Lois, "if it's done before I am." 

Pushed off Selina's shoulders, the black cat wandered over to Lois and sniffed at her legs. 

"Hey, sweetie." 

The cat hissed, backing away. 

"Well, be that way. I'll pass on your regards to Krypto." She heard the shower commence, and looked around the apartment. The only other sound at this time in the morning was the subtle hiss of the coffee-maker. Even the other four cats were eerily silent, staring at her blankly. The exterior door, covered in identifying locks, was to her right. 

A much larger black and white cat jumped in her lap, sat down for a moment and started to chew on her purse strap. She shoved it off, stood hastily and headed it for the door. To hell with men and their good intentions. 

* * *

That was how she found herself in the middle of the East Side ghetto at the wrong time of night. It wasn't that she didn't know the way back, she had no trouble following street signs what with basic reading comprehension and all that, but her camera still worked. You could always tell good workmanship in how well a technological device handled being used as a club. 

To her side, on a graffitied bench, a heap of newspapers and trashed shifted position. Walking swiftly to keep warm, she kept her eyes roving the terrain. A lifetime of reporting around the world had taught her the difference between reckless and investigative. She wasn't about to fall prey to Gotham's chart-topping statistics. 

Up ahead, under a lit street lamp, she could see a police officer advancing on a young woman. She wore a short white skirt, pink tube-top and half-jacket. Ducking her head, she kept backing straight into an alley, the beat cop never pausing in his pursuit. 

Lois broke into a run, unbuckling the camera bag as she went. She dropped into a quiet walk in the last few yards, hugging the wall. Checking the camera settings for aperture and shutter speed from memory, she took a breath. She could hear a panicked whisper, sliding cloth and something she guessed was a billy club. This was the sort of self-centered corruption for which Gotham was known. Sometimes all it took was showing people the image of truth to stop crime. 

Leveling the camera, she pivoted to face the alley, found her target and shot. 

Blinded for a moment by the flash, the cop froze, one hand at his waist, the other holding the club. The young prostitute was faster, going from her knees to the wall like a startled animal. In the following darkness, Lois couldn't see the man's face go from ape-like astonishment to rage, but she didn't need to guess. 

"Run!" Lois shouldered the camera, waving at the girl. There wasn't much time and she wasn't moving, now. She knew basic defense, but this was a trained officer with a weapon and getting arrested for assault wasn't high on his list of favorite things to do. Peripherally, she noticed the cop was faster than she expected. 

The club hit her right above the eye, on her forehead. 

"Damnit," a woman's voice hissed. 

Lois held her head, gasping over the sound of a brief but violent exchange. The sound of human flesh impacting on concrete, the expulsion of air and wet sounds of bodily fluids. 

"Here." Selina's voice followed by the soft tap of... of.... 

Lois squinted blearily. The girl she'd clumsily rescued was holding a wallet, smiling. The cop lay face down on the sidewalk. 

"C'mon." Selina grabbed Lois under her arms, none too gently, and Lois took over to stand the rest of the way. 

"I'm fine." 

A hand grabbed her shoulder, to redirect her progress. 

"Then look where you're going." Selina pulled up beside her to check the wound, frowning. "Get moving." 

Lois dabbed at her forehead with her tissue, now a glorious mix of old crusty blood and new fresh blood. Selina's attitude was brisk, her hair wet enough to drip down her neck. 

"How'd you find me so quickly?" 

"Bug." 

She closed her eyes and folded the tissue into a neat square. "I'm that predictable?" 

"Yes." Selina punched open the apartment complex doors, pushed through and jabbed at the elevator button. 

"I didn't mean to cause you trouble but I -" 

"It's over. Done. You're safe. I figure we're even." 

"And you're not angry?" 

"If I stayed angry at everything, I'd be in Arkham by now." Selina's shoulders dropped from their hard line and she smiled vaguely. "Don't do that again, okay?" 

Lois blinked. It wasn't anger but an anxiety attack? Catwoman wasn't a proper villain at all, going by this rate. "Look, it's nothing personal but I get so sick of 'not causing trouble' and then they put _you_ on me and -" 

"It's _okay_." Wry smile in place, Selina exited the elevator. "I understand. Lived with Batman since forever. I get the 'rules' thing." 

Lois jogged to catch up, craning her head to face the other woman. "Lived with Batman?" 

Selina covered her eyes with her fingers, laughing. "Not literally. Geez, you really buy into those rumors?" She shook her head. "I mean in Gotham. It's my home, you know?" 

"Uh huh." Lois processed the verbal slip, checked it against the long standing rumors about Batman and Catwoman, the JLA and JSA's policy to never pursue her regardless of her location, the known tendency of other villains to treat her as an enemy, her perpetual freedom and didn't say anything further on that subject. 

Eyes lidded, Selina drawled, "What?" She held open her apartment door, pointing inside. 

"So he _did_ let you stay." 

"I would have regardless of his orders and demands." 

"In Blackgate." Lois smiled when Selina didn't automatically counter that reply, heading instead for the coffee pot. 

"It wouldn't have done him any good." 

"Oh yeah," Lois broke into a laugh. "I heard you caused a riot the one time you ended up there." 

Selina craned around, to hand Lois an ice-pack. "I didn't cause anything. I was trying to eat my dinner." 

"The entire jail just magically rioted on its own?" 

"Pretty much." 

"Rules spontaneously break around you?" 

"It's a black cat thing." 

"Uh huh." She put down her camera bag. "And does he tell you 'don't do that', 'don't go there', 'don't run off and get into trouble', 'think ahead'..." 

Selina picked up on, "... 'don't touch that', 'put it down', 'get off of me'." 

They chimed in together, " 'I know what I'm doing!' " 

There was a soft, continous scraping noise enmating from the hallway and the black and white cat trotted into view, dragging Catwoman's whip in a long trail. 

"Bubbles," Selina warned in a disapproving voice. 

The cat pointed one ear in her direction, never pausing. Selina swung out after him, the cat dropped the whip and took off to hide behind the sofa. She didn't bother with him, only picked up the whip to hide it in the hallway closet, then returned to the kitchen grinning widely. 

Lois grabbed up the mug left on the table for her and walked to the glass patio doors to dodge the unexpected sense of familiarity. This was Catwoman, not her best friend. Out the doors was a partial view of the streets below, past the brick balcony, but she doubted that mattered. From being around Clark, around members of the Justice League, sometimes Bruce and his apprentices, she knew the East Side of Gotham was the most impoverished and decayed sector. 

The trouble with being a reporter was that it was very much like being a detective. Lois couldn't help but _notice_ the expensive clothes and furnishings and _formulate_ , which lead to _questions_. She frowned into her coffee. 

"What?" 

"Hm?" 

"You've been watching me and glaring at your coffee. I know it's not bad, because I'm drinking some, which means you've got something on your mind." 

Lois cocked her head, tried to bite her tongue and failed. "Why do you live here if you can afford all this?" 

There was nothing like being straightforward to test a person's boundaries and make oneself unwelcome enough to leave freely. Unfortunately, to her credit, Selina never paused in her self-occupying industriousness. She didn't look up either, or say a word. 

Lois nodded in resignation and returned to window-gazing. So, no easy escape. 

"I grew up here." 

The simple reply was loaded with information that her brain immediately dissected. Earlier Selina had said 'Gotham' so now she meant _here_ , on the streets walked by crooked cops and teenage girls. Lois almost followed with a question about her family, but there was no need, the empty tone of the answer telling her there were none. 

She shifted uncomfortably and touched the contusion on her forehead. The statistics weren't good for orphaned girls in large cities. When she lost focus of the window, the city beyond blurred into dark shapes punctuated by neon lights that made her think of Bangkok. 

"I know what you're thinking," came the low, almost snide, taunt. 

"No you don't." 

"What's a girl like me doing with a boy like him?" 

"Well, I hope this doesn't mean I fail your test, but all the stories about you say you're one of those bad girl types," Lois stepped away from the doors to sit down again. Except now, she knew that Selina had been far more of a bad girl than any of those wannabes, that Catwoman wasn't faking anything. Which meant it wasn't a joke and all those jibes Clark related to her took on a cruel edge. 

"But I am. Haven't you heard?" Selina stared coldly through the kitchen alcove. 

"Oh yeah, I've heard lots of things about you. That you're a femme fatale who incapacitates the hero by draping all over him and whispering in his ear, and putting out in general. That you're a government spy. That you're working for Luthor. That you're working for Batman. That you and him have a secret love child." 

Her strategy worked and Selina's facade broke into a snort of laughter. "Um, no." 

"Yet." 

"Very funny." Selina ducked her head and pointed the knife at her, grinning. "So I've blown my cover?" 

"Totally." Lois held up her hands. "The worst part is that it works, every time. You have any idea how many times I've watched one of them do that to Clark?" 

"Mm hm." 

"I've offended you, haven't I?" 

"No, it's all right. That is one of my, em, techniques because men are stupid and it _does_ work, but you're not giving Bruce enough credit." 

Lois cocked her head, narrowing one eye. "I smell a story." 

"And if it ends up on the front lines, so will you." 

"Spill." 

"I'm not saying it didn't work at all, but the man isn't lead by his cock, all right? Otherwise, Ivy would have iced him long ago. Let's just say he learns from experience and does whatever works." 

"We all know that. C'mon, you can't leave it at that." 

"You're a gossip." 

"Sure. That's why the entire world knows Clark Kent is Superman." She made a moue. "This place isn't bugged, is it?" 

"Only Oracle. And Bruce." 

"He has cameras in your apartment?" 

Selina sniffed, failing to conceal a smirk. "I think it's related to his habit of lifting the security tapes from my heists." 

"Sure, but that makes sense. Figure out your modus operandi." 

"The completely irrelevant bits where I wriggle around in the ventilation shaft?" 

Lois spit coffee all over the table, covered her mouth and grabbed at her napkin. She dabbed at her lips. "Now you're trying to distract me. Give over. What part of super-villainess drapes herself on the male hero have I got wrong?" 

Selina sighed loudly. "Embarrassing fact number one: he doesn't like to hit me and, of course, I take advantage of that." 

"Isn't hitting and scaring people how he gets information?" 

"Mm." 

"I take it you weren't scared of him, either?" 

"In my experience, men in funny costumes want to be whipped and call you mistress." Selina grinned widely, for a moment. "I've got a bit of an edge, there." 

Lois glanced away in case there was any flicker across her face. She wondered how Selina could joke about that. "And women in funny costumes?" 

"Ah. Well." Selina faltered, her smile fading. "That." She scratched the side of her nose with her thumb, still holding the knife. "He liked to pin me against walls." 

Lois balked, shaking her head. "You mean he twisted your arm behind your back to keep you from fighting, right?" 

"That too but there was this one time when he managed to get me spread eagle, front and center, over a roof-top ventilation shaft. You know, those "L" shaped ones?" Selina mimed the curve in the air and Lois nodded. "No leverage at all, had my wrists behind my back, laughing my ass off, of course. He waits until I stop struggling, then smiles sweetly and I realize he's wearing a cup." 

"No," whispered Lois. 

"Yes." 

"No way. Batman wouldn't...." 

Selina raised her eyebrows, a smile obvious behind her firmly shut lips. 

"Yes, yes, oh, yes?" 

Selina bit her lip and pointed the knife at the ceiling, pantomiming. "What are you doing? Where were you going? What are you planning? Don't lie to me. Answer the question. Thank god for that cape." 

Lois was hunched over her knees, holding her stomach, shaking in silent laughter. She looked up, trying to keep a straight face. "Amen for capes." She heard Selina chuckle. 

"I've always wondered about that. I mean, don't you get cold up there?" 

"Sometimes. Not if you stay busy." Lois sat back, resting her chin on the junction of her thumb and index finger. "So, what you're saying is that Batman's a vamp." 

Putting a hand to chest in mock horror, Selina winced at the pun, "You're dangerous with those things." She rinsed off the knife. "For the record, he has never sucked my blood but he did pin me in front of Robin once." 

"It's good to know some of the rumors are true." 

"The ones about me, him and rooftop sex?" Selina's smile became wry. "Sorry to disappoint." 

"But you said-" 

"He left as soon as he had the answers he wanted. It wasn't... it wasn't serious." 

Lois huffed, "That asshole. Clark always finishes what he starts." 

Selina shrugged one shoulder. "He was just being a vamp and doing it back. Fair's fair, I guess but frankly, I'm surprised he understood any of what I said." 

"Hm." Lois bit back the suggestion that maybe he hadn't, that Batman had left for an entirely different reason. 

"What? No joke about scarring little boys?" 

"Oh, I'm sure he was fine. Dick has always seemed like the adaptable sort. I was thinking that you must like him a lot to put up with that sort of thing." 

Selina's expression became tight, guarded. "He's a good man. This city would be worse off without him but -" 

"He's difficult to love?" 

"He's easy to love. I don't know many good men - and I've known a lot - but I can't trust him. A friend guards your back, even if they think you're wrong, but he needs people to do things his way and all this is only a coincidence. We're just taking a vacation from fighting." 

"I don't mean to interrupt your pity trip, but everyone in the JLA knows you two aren't enemies. You're practically a litmus test of villainy." Lois aped a two-way conversation. " 'So, I have a new villain.' 'Oh, really? like Luthor or like Catwoman'?" Selina blinked at her and she realized the joke had fallen flat 

"Pity trip?" Selina leaned through the alcove. "Let me explain something to you. Next month, next week, maybe tomorrow, I'll do something he can't understand or accept. He'll try to take away my freedom. I'll need to protect myself from him and we'll both go home with bruises and broken bones because deep down inside, when I do something different than him, he thinks I'm a bad person. He can't help it." 

"If he thought that you'd have been in jail years ago." 

"Then maybe he doesn't trust me either. All I know is we can't stop fighting. There's something wrong with this world if people need to break laws to get by but to him that's just criminal. I don't think we'll ever agree about that." 

"I'm not going to tell you to do things his way, but you could compromise. Or," Lois brought the empty coffee mug over to the alcove to deposit on the counter, "you could notice that you already have." 

"This is temporary, at best." 

"Fine. Would you say Bruce is a good detective?" 

"Playing investigative reporter, again?" 

"Is that okay?" 

"Only because -" 

"I'm married to Superman." 

"Mm." 

"So, would you agree that he knows you haven't magically converted to his way of thinking? That you're still doing things your way and," she pointed at the bruise on her forehead, "and beating up cops?" 

"Probably." A large, fluffy tabby jumped up onto the counter and Selina petted it, absently, sipping from her still full cup. 

"Okay. So why does he give you nearly a third of the city?" 

Selina fumbled with the cup. 

Lois didn't dare step out of the living room and into the kitchen. "Because most men only give a ring." 

Face twisting, Selina finally met her eyes. "It's not like that. It's expediency. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away and all that jazz." 

Lois chewed on her lip, venturing into unknown territory. There were things about these two the JLA and her husband obviously didn't know. Things about ownership and control. "What if he doesn't? What if, no matter what you do -" 

"That's enough," she hissed. 

"I'm sorry." 

"I'm not angry." 

Lois looked at Selina's hand, fisted so tightly the knuckles were white. "Okay." 

"Are we interrupting something?" Superman touched down on the floor, red boots on beige carpet, without a sound. Batman followed through the patio doors, tripping over two cats who had promptly rubbed against his legs. 

"No." 

"What happened to you?" Superman stared at Lois. 

"Unfortunate incident with the coffee table." 

Batman, having watched Selina's reaction to that statement, jerked his head toward Lois, then back at Selina. He peeled off his cowl. "Any trouble?" 

She put one hand over the other, as if hiding something. "I didn't expect you." 

"It made more sense to come back here than go back to Bristol." 

"Sure." Selina nodded, slightly toward Lois and Clark. "The old married couple leaving soon?" 

The other two were bent in quiet conversation. Superman said something with a small grin, Lois covered her mouth and then put a finger to her lips, shaking her head. 

Bruce smiled faintly, craning his head awkwardly to try and escape well-meant chin-grooming from Bernard the fluffy tabby. "She can be a handful." He pushed the cat away, to no avail. 

"She's a gossip," growled Selina. 

Bruce unhooked his cape, draping it across her counter. "Sometimes."


End file.
